


C is for Casual Friday

by kuriadalmatia



Series: Alphabet Meme Series [10]
Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Physical Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-17
Updated: 2012-02-17
Packaged: 2017-10-31 07:43:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/341653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kuriadalmatia/pseuds/kuriadalmatia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The situation is eerily similar to when Hotch and Reid faced down Dowd, except this time, Reid's negotiating with the UnSubs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	C is for Casual Friday

**Author's Note:**

> ARCHIVING: my LJ, DW, FFNet and AO3... anyone else? Please ask first.
> 
> COMMENTS: Part of the The Great A-Z Multifandom Drabbling Meme. Unbetaed.
> 
> Feedback always welcome.
> 
> DISCLAIMER: The Mark Gordon Company, ABC Studios and CBS Paramount Network Television own Criminal Minds. Salut! I just took them out to play and I promise put them back when I'm done. I'm not making any profit just trying to get these images out of my head.

/***/

It was a dubious plan, but when facing down two UnSubs holding an ER hostage and the clock was ticking, it really was the only plan they had. It wasn't as outrageous as, say, a magic trick to dupe a gun-wielding paranoid schizophrenic into thinking an implanted chip was being removed but…

Yeah.

Unorthodox.

What Hotch wasn't expecting was _him_ to get the rifle butt to the face. _Him_ to be the one sitting at Reid's feet. _Him_ to be the one being mocked by Reid. _Him_ with his hands ziptied while Reid had somehow talked his way out of being bound.

The UnSubs—Christ, Hotch couldn't even remember the guys' names except that they were cousins and their aunt had died here—waved their semi-automatic rifles around as they ranted. They were focused on Reid, almost pleading their case to him.

In the BAU's favor was that the UnSubs fully believing Reid was a physician because the man was dressed in scrubs and—thank God, thank God—the head ER nurse referred to him as 'doctor' instead of 'agent'.

Hotch remembered Reid assuring him, "It's gonna work" as he donned on the clothing. He remembered vaguely agreeing, but it was strained. There was a reason the Bureau didn't allow couples to work together on the same team, let alone the same unit. It was the same reason SWAT commander sometimes didn't tell the negotiator when they were going in, because the slightest change in tone or words could give the whole thing away.

 _Focus,_ Hotch told himself because now his head was pounding and Reid's words were now fuzzy and distant, not crisp and enunciated. He shook his head, trying to clear the fogginess that was quickly taking over.

"You son of a bitch!"

"No!" Reid shouted.

Hotch snapped his head up in time to see the end of the rifle just inches from his left eye. What was holding it back? Reid. Hotch could clearly see the muscles of his subordinate's— _Lover's,_ his mind whispered, _lover's_ —forearm flexed and tense, his fingers wrapped firmly around the barrel of the gun.

He heard the words, "Concussion" and "Leverage" and "Chip".

Reid's words, but they were emotionless. Clinical. The same tone he used when talking about a cold case.

And really, that was the last thing that Hotch remembered.

/***/

Once Reid figured out that all the UnSubs—Chase and Kyle Bethay—wanted was someone to listen how the insurance company had turned down the claims because the hospital had used the wrong DRG codes, it had been relatively easy.

Except for Hotch passing out from the concussion.

 _That_ had been frightening.

Because Hotch trying to clear his head came at the worst possible moment.

Reid managed to avert the first blow but not the second one after Hotch fell unconscious. Thankfully, Chase Bethay had hit Hotch's shoulder, not a more vulnerable spot. Still, it was the reason Reid was sitting in the private hospital room, still in his scrubs, and fidgeting because he really _really_ wanted to hold his lover's hand but couldn't.

Propriety was a bitch sometimes. Hotch would be livid if Reid did something to give their relationship away to a group of strangers. The team knew, which was why Rossi had publicly insisted that Reid stay behind until Hotch regained consciousness.

"Nrgh."

Reid bolted out his chair, rushing forward and checking the monitors as he did. Heart rate up. Blood pressure up. Oxygen level up. Good things.

He grabbed Hotch's hand because he had an excuse now. "Hotch? Hotch. It's Reid. You're safe. It's over."

"Spencer," Hotch slurred as he opened his eyes.

"Right here. I'm right here," Reid assured him, leaning over and squeezing his hand hard.

A slow grin spread across the man's face. Hotch's gaze met his and murmured, "Casual Friday."

Reid blinked a few times as he searched his memory for the reason for the reference. It took a few seconds and then he laughed. There was an ongoing bet in the BAU that Hotch and Reid would never be 'casually dressed' on the same day. "Casually", of course, meant something other than khakis (a staple of Reid's wardrobe) and a pullover (a staple of Hotch's).

Hotch was in a hospital gown; Reid in scrubs. Reid gave another squeeze to his lover's hands. "No photos, I promise."

"Good."

"But you'll have to stay awake now, okay?"

"Don't wanna."

"Don't care."

"You're not a real doctor."

"Three PhD's says I am."

"Christ. Always the PhD's."

Reid grinned. " _Always_ the PhD's."

/***/


End file.
